


Winning the Game

by EmmyKottakis



Series: A Day in Your Shoes [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 08:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18587800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyKottakis/pseuds/EmmyKottakis
Summary: It's Richard's turn to go through Jim's daily tasks. He is just as determined to prove himself and beat the legendary mastermind, but how long will he last? And is he prepared for the special surprise Jim has waiting for him?





	Winning the Game

Richard woke up at 11am, thanks to arguing with Jim about his ‘no waking up before 9’ rule. In a record time of a whole hour, Richard was standing in front of his mirror in a neatly pressed Westwood black suit, tie and all, with his hair carefully combed back. He stared his reflection in the eyes, thinking only: You are James Moriarty. Criminal Mastermind. Killer. Psychopath. Horrible baker- Richard burst out giggling, any image of a dangerous man shattering to pieces. He managed to pull himself together after a few moments, but he decided that was the only preparation he would need. All he had to do was keep from giggling or shrieking with terror, and he would surely survive the day. He walked into the kitchen of his flat, arranging a simple and quick breakfast. By 12:30, Richard saw the alert on his phone that the car was outside waiting. Richard sighed, reminding himself this dare was just another part to play. And this way he could surely convince Jim that he was worthy of attention. (Plus, the idea of Jim tap dancing never ceased to make Richard smile). He managed to hold onto a straight, intimidating facial expression as he rather ungracefully clambered into the backseat of a stylish and sleek black car. As he got in, he was surprised to hear Severin’s voice, currently being disguised with some husky accent that made Richard have to hold back a cheerful smirk.  
“Hello, Mr. Moriarty. I have been instructed to be your bodyguard for the day.”  
“Rin! How’d you manage to get Jim to let you do this?” Richard quickly strapped on his seat belt and Severin began to drive off as he responded.  
“I didn’t actually tell him…” Severin winced, adjusting his black sunglasses quickly. “He’ll find out soon enough anyways, I wasn’t being sneaky about it. And it’s not like he’ll kill his brother’s favorite bodyguard… I intend to chaperone you while you’re off gallivanting across London, doing god knows what.”  
Richard strictly reminded himself the no giggling (or blushing) rule.  
“There’s no one else I would prefer.”  
Severin grinned, and Richard wished he could see the glimmer in his love’s eyes beneath the shades.  
About twenty minutes later, they arrived at a shady looking warehouse. Severin glanced down at his phone as he pulled to a stop.  
“You have to go in here and scare some guys into giving you information. Or something. Just don’t...I mean…” Severin struggled for the right wording. “There may be a lot of blood involved.”  
Richard inhaled deeply and forced his shoulders to raise upwards in a small shrug.  
“I can handle blood.” Richard said, but even to himself he sounded like he was protesting, or trying to prove a point more to himself than Severin.  
“Alright. Don’t worry, I’ll be there with you. If you need to leave, or anything, just make up an excuse and we’ll be out of here.”  
“I’ll be fine.” Richard replied, steadying his voice. “Hold on a moment.” Richard closed his eyes for a moment. No jokes now. He was Jim Moriarty. He was going to win this bet. He would show Jim that he was a worthy opponent of wit, or at least worthy of attention. When he opened his eyes, he was a criminal mastermind. He was his brother. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see a small look of surprise from Severin as he forced his expression to shift into Jim’s. He then pulled out a pair of shades and carefully put them on.  
“Let’s go.” He said simply, opening the car door and confidently stepping out.  
Severin followed along wordlessly. One last deep breath, Richard told himself as he stepped into a shabby but large warehouse, a good front for any shenanigans. He was not completely ready for what he saw inside.  
A man that Richard knew all too well was seated in the warehouse, his hands cuffed to the arms of the chair and duct tape covering his mouth. Richard had to try hard to suppress a wince as he almost mechanically stepped forward.  
The man’s name was Chester McDuffy. He made the best damn pastries in all of London. Richard hadn’t been careful enough. Jim must’ve tracked him on many of his outings to get a scone or donut, or other assorted sweet. And now it had come back to haunt him.  
Were the calories worth it? Richard found himself questioning as he walked forward to meet the two men flanking Chester.  
Of course they were worth it. There were no muffins as delectable, no cinnamon rolls as sweet. Richard forced his face to remain as rigid as stone, letting no emotion of dismay filter past his eyes.  
“Mr. Moriarty.” One of the men behind Chester said in a dark growling voice. They were both tall and muscular, in identical suits. A couple of Jim’s soldiers. It was a little eerie thinking that Sebastian had once just been a bodyguard of sorts like one of them.  
Richard held back a cheery ‘ello and nodded curtly to the both of them.  
“Our friend Mr. McDuffy here hasn’t been cooperating too well. He still hasn’t told us which flavor of donut he hid the poison in.”  
“The poison?” Richard prompted, trying not to look too confused and instead irritated, even if it was information he should’ve known.  
“Uh, yes, sir. The poison we hired him to put inside one of the donuts. He hasn’t told us where he put it.”  
“Did you just get here?”  
“Yes.” The other man replied, his voice emotionless to a robotic extent that unnerved Richard slightly.  
“May we continue to attempt to...persuade him to cooperate, sir?” The other one asked, a small malevolent smile gleaming at the Irishman.  
Richard coughed.  
“Uhm, give me a moment to speak with my…” Richard turned to glance at Severin. He needed a fake name, something to call him- “with Bobbert.”  
Richard turned his back to the men before he could wince at the made up name. Severin stood next to him, obviously attempting to hold back a laugh.  
“Bobbert? I thought you were a professional.” He whispered between quiet chuckles. Richard rolled his eyes and glanced behind at Chester, who was visibly shaking.  
“I need you to knock those two out. I don’t care if I lose this dare, Jim endangered my favorite baker just for this stupid game.”  
Severin sighed softly. Richard knew he should’ve expected for Jim to pull something like this.  
“Alright, bunny. I’ll have to shoot one of them, but it won’t be lethal. Probably.” Severin murmured before turning back around to face the other men, Richard following suit.  
“What are your names?” Richard asked calmly, trying to keep his eyes off of the trembling pastry master.  
“I’m Jay and he’s Steve.” The first man, Jay, said. Steve simply nodded.  
Richard nodded and gestured to Severin.  
“Well, Jay and Steve, Bobbert will be taking over from here. I want you two to guard the perimeter. And I want the keys.” Richard spouted whatever professional sounding nonsense he could to get them to start walking away. Jay and Steve glanced at each other, knowing that saying no to Moriarty was a death wish. So what could they do but begin to walk away, wondering if they would be killed for their incompetence? They began to trail off, Steve handing the handcuff keys to Richard without making eye contact, both of them holding their tongues until they would be out of earshot so they could converse with one another. Severin silently turned and pulled out his gun, firing one shot into Jay’s shoulder and leaping forward, his fists already in motion as Steve turned to face the threat.  
Both men were on the ground unconscious in mere moments. Richard watched with wide wary eyes, wanting to assist but knowing that unless hearing a Shakespearean monologue would make them pass out, he would be no help.  
“Bobbert: 1. Weird bakery interrogation guys: zero.” Severin said with a straight face, and Richard chuckled, pausing before hugging Severin as he looked back at Chester.  
Oh. Right.  
“You’re off the hook today, Mr. McDuffy.” Richard said, trying to seem stone cold as he unlocked the handcuffs and quickly ripped off the duct tape, trying to suppress a wince. “Dispose of the poison. And stay safe.” Richard then spun around on his heel, gritting his teeth as he stormed out of the building with Severin, daintily stepping over the bodyguard’s two limp forms. He heard a shaky “Thank you” from behind him, and it took all of his will power to smile and reply happily to the baker.  
As soon as they reached the car, Richard angrily kicked one of the front wheels, his fists clenched. Severin stood by, looking concerned but staying quiet.  
“I can’t believe Jim would do that!” Richard wanted to be angry, but he had to admit to himself it was a genius and efficient way to make him lose the bet. And he had, in fact, lost.  
“We don’t have to tell Jim…”  
“He’ll find out.” Richard replied, and he could tell by Severin’s weary sigh that he knew it was true.  
“Let’s just...wait it out, okay? See what happens. You can still beat him.” Severin glanced around for a moment before unlocking the car. “The most important thing right now is getting and staying somewhere safe until we figure this out.”  
Richard nodded glumly, climbing into the car and soon being driven away.  
“I would want Jim to play be the rules.” Richard drawled out, pulling his phone out of his pocket and staring down at it. He had wanted to win this one simple thing. A wistful huff of breath left his lips as he scrolled through his contacts to Jim’s number, his thumb poisoned over the call icon.  
“Hey.” Severin said softly, directing Richard’s attention to him. “You did the right thing today.”  
“I know. That’s why I lost.” Severin offered him a small smile, sensing the morose significance behind this so called failure.  
A happy chiming sound began to ring throughout the car, interrupting Richard’s gloominess. He stared down at his phone in disbelief.  
Jim was calling him.  
How did he already know? Was he calling to gloat? Richard bit his lip and picked up the phone, answering it and holding it to his ear.  
“Richard?” Jim’s voice held an irritated tone that didn’t seem triumphant at all. Richard glanced at Severin and shrugged.  
“Yeah, what’s up?”  
“I give up. This crazy actor acting and socializing is worse than two weeks of torture.”  
“Soooo are you saying I won?” Richard said, a slow grin building across his lips.  
“Shut up.” Jim growled, not having any idea that if he had waited sixty more seconds before calling, he would’ve been the winner. “Just get me out of here. Sebastian’s on a job.”  
“Alrighty, loser. I suppose I pity you enough to do this one favor.”  
“I swear, you brag about this for any longer and I-” Richard hung up.  
“Change of plans.” Richard said to Severin, bursting into a giggling fit a moment later. “From now on, I won fair and square. And we have to get Jim from the theater before he commits mass murder.”  
“No problem, boss.” Severin winked at him and made a quick turn, changing course to pick up Jim. Richard didn’t stop smiling the whole way, the irony of their little game only making the victory sweeter.  
So no, James Moriarty couldn’t win just any game.


End file.
